


Welcome to the IDCA Tony DiNozzo

by SharaRaizel



Series: IDCA Spies [1]
Category: Burn Notice, NCIS
Genre: Gen, Pre-Series, spy AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2014-02-05
Packaged: 2017-12-04 03:48:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SharaRaizel/pseuds/SharaRaizel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's mid June in 1992 and with his graduation from Ohio State drawing nearer, Tony DiNozzo dreads the few options left open to him now that he has no chance of going pro as an athlete... until one Michael Weston appears with a suspicious job offer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meeting the Recruiter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a three part/chapter story that's nearly complete and because I've been on a bit of an NCIS and Burn Notice kick lately and have recently re-watched the Bourne trilogy, I'm cleaning these up and have decided to finally post it here. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> This is the first story in what I plan to be my IDCA Spy series that takes place in an AU world that will involve characters from NCIS, Burn Notice, Bones, The Bourne Trilogy/Series and later from Dark Angel and Supernatural. The series will be centering around an openly competent Tony DiNozzo (because really, there is no way that he isn't competent. Gibbs never would have made and kept Tony as his Senior Field Agent if he weren't).
> 
> In this first story, it's just Tony and Michael and serves as a prologue of sorts for an even bigger series of stories I have planed (but not yet written just FYI). I hope you enjoy reading it. :)
> 
> Oh yeah, and I don't own any of this. Tony DiNozzo and Michael Weston belong to their respective shows and production companies. The idea for this fic isn't even mine entirely, since I'm mooching the idea off of antientmaverick's Snow Dragon's fan fic/verse which can be found here: s/3850609/1/
> 
> *Edited Nov 8, 2017*

### Thursday June 11, 1992

Anthony “Tony” DiNozzo sighed as he walked around Ohio State’s large and spacious campus grounds. It was a nice, clear and warm day outside and after spending the entire morning and most of his afternoon indoors “studying” up and taking his final exams, he was more than happy to be out and about taking in his surroundings. That is until the gloom of looming events came back to the forefront of his mind now that he didn’t have an adequate distraction. 

He was going to be graduating in a couple of days, and quite frankly he was dreading it. He’d gotten his leg busted up in a football game against Michigan State a few months back and he’d only just finished going through the physical therapy. That injury had taken him out of the game for the rest of the season and ruined any chances he’d had at going pro. But because he was going to be graduating with only a Bachelor’s degree in Physical Education… 

Tony wasn’t sure where he was going to go after this. He knew he had a few options left open to him. There was a local high school that was looking for a new phys ed. teacher because their current one wanted to have a replacement lined up before retiring. After speaking with the school’s principal, he knew that the school would be more than happy to hire him after he got his degree, but Tony didn’t know if he wanted to teach.  _ Especially _ at a high school. He was only just out of his teens himself and his own memories of high school were less than stellar. Nope. Tony DiNozzo wasn’t going to go that route unless he was desperate.

“HELP! THIEF!”

Speaking of desperate…

Tony looked in the direction of the shout and spotted a blond beauty screaming and pointing with long manicured fingernails at a figure dressed in jeans and a dark hoodie sweatshirt that was in possession of a bag that definitely did not belong to him. Not even thinking about it, Tony took off after the guy ignoring the initial twinge in his bad leg, the muscles protesting against his actions as he broke into a flat out run. The guy was fast, but Tony couldn’t hold back his smirk as he gained on him even with his still recovering leg injury. When he got close enough Tony lunged forward and tackled the punk to the ground. They wrestled around on the grass for a moment before Tony managed to pin the guy into submission and pry the purse away. 

He heard the distinctive hurried click of heels and a couple pairs of heavy footfalls on pavement and looked up in time to see the blond girl flanked by two men from campus security as they stepped off the path and onto the lawn.

“Oh my God! Thank you!” the girl cried as she snatched up her purse and began to check its contents.

“No problem,” Tony grunted as he turned the thief over to campus security.

“No, really, thank you,” the blond said, grinning as she shut her purse’s clasp firmly, all items apparently accounted for. “My whole life is in this thing. It was very kind of you to go after him. Let me buy you a drink?”

“If you insist. It’d be rude to turn down an offer from such a lovely lady.” Tony smiled back at the girl. She fluttered her eyelashes flirtatiously in response.

“I do insist,” the blond nodded, looping her arm through his and began directing them off campus. “I know this great pub. It’s the perfect place for two people to sit down and have a nice chat to get better acquainted.”

“Sounds good to me.” Tony smirked, previous worries forgotten for now as his mind focused on the rather enjoyable evening he was sure he was in for.

 

It was around 1 o’clock in the morning when Tony returned to his apartment feeling pleasantly buzzed from good drinks and even better sex. He was humming a tune to himself as he set his wallet and watch down on the kitchen counter, not bothering to turn on the lights of his sparsely furnished abode.

“Have fun tonight, Champ?”

Tony startled, turning sharply on his heel and warily eyed a dark figure in the shadows standing by his couch. Tony didn’t take his eyes off the figure while he flipped the lights on, revealing his late night visitor. There was a tall man with dark brown hair leaning nonchalantly against the side of his couch. He was wearing a nice dark blue polo shirt and nondescript jeans. He didn’t look that much older than Tony, but Tony knew that that didn’t mean much. Tony himself was younger than he looked after all.

“Who are you and how did you get in here?” Tony asked softly, backing up slightly so that he was in a better position to get a hold on one of his kitchen knives or the pans if he needed to.

“My name is Michael Weston,” the man answered calmly, moving away from the couch to take a seat at the small table in the kitchen.  Now that he was in better lighting, Tony could make out the man’s steel blue eyes and the small, almost unnoticeable cleft in the man’s chin. 

“And as for how I got in here,” Michael continued, “I used the spare key. Nice hiding place by the way. Not many people would think to look for a spare key taped to the underside of the floor’s railing inside the curve. You’re resourceful and think outside the box. I like that. You can stop eyeing your kitchen knives and saucepans by the way. I only came here to talk.”

“About what?” Tony asked warily, leaning against the kitchen counter where the pots were still within reach.

“A job offer,” Michael stated, clasping his hands together as he set them to rest on the table’s surface. “I represent an organization that has had their eye on you for quite some time. They’ve sent me to recruit you.”

“Oh that doesn’t sound suspicious at all.” Tony frowned, crossing his arms. “Not to mention stalker-ish. There a reason I shouldn’t be calling the police and charge you with breaking and entering?

Michael laughed, shaking his head.

“You’ve certainly got guts and you’re cautious,” Michael mused, leaning back in his seat. “You’re smart too. According to your academic record you’ve maintained a B average in all your classes at OSU.”

“So?” Tony shrugged.

“So?” Michael grinned, leaning forward. “You graduated high school at 17 with a combined score of 1950 on your SATS. I only managed a 1565 myself and I know for a fact that you are purposely keeping your class grades at OSU at a B average. I bet that if you put as much effort as you do at keeping that baseline B grade into actually excelling in your classes, you’d have a high A average.”

Tony narrowed his eyes.

“But hey, man, I totally get it,” Michael said, his expression sympathetic. “You’re a Phys Ed. Major with a very impressive sports record and the role of jock to play.  As an unspoken rule of society, jocks can’t be smart, so you’re keeping those smarts to yourself.”

“What do you want?” Tony growled. He didn’t like this. This man obviously knew a lot about him – how much he wasn’t sure, but it was making him uncomfortable.

“I told you,” Michael stated slowly like he was trying to get a point across to a very slow child. “I want to offer you a job.”

“Funny,” Tony quipped. “Sounds more like you’re reciting my academic record to me.  If you’ve got a point somewhere, Mr. Weston, I’d appreciate it if you’d just cut the crap and get there. It’s late and I have to get up later in the morning to prepare for my last exam.”

Michael’s lips quirked into a half smile before he took out a folder from seemingly nowhere and tossed it onto the table. Tony eyed the thick and official looking folder for a moment before slowly moving to take a seat at the table across from Michael.

“It’s your profile,” Michael explained as Tony began to look through the folder’s contents. “Everything that the Agency has thought to be noteworthy about you is in there. Your high school report cards, your hospital records, interviews and letters of recommendation from all of your coaches and teachers, scholarship information, and even that one speeding ticket you got your first year at OSU. We’re also aware that since coming to Ohio State you’ve been pretending to be 22 when in actuality you’ve only just recently turned 20.”

Tony was silent as he shut the folder, keeping his face expressionless.

“What is it that you want from me?” Tony finally asked. “And don’t say a job offer, because the more you talk the less I’m convinced that that is your objective here.”

“Yet it’s the truth.” Michael shrugged. “But just for the sake of curiosity, what is it that  _ you _ think I am here for?”

Tony eyed the man critically this time, taking advantage of the few psychology classes he’d taken as electives. He noted the broad shoulders, the straight back, and the manner in which the guy held himself.

“Well you certainly don’t look like a businessman,” Tony mused. “I spent my life growing up around the business class and you don’t look the type. Your body build is too solid for a pencil necked desk jockey and more like a body builder’s. My money’s on military though, or some other branch of the armed forces. You definitely have that official manner down at any rate. Also, you show up with a detailed record on me – with clear evidence of fraud I might add since you obviously know that I’ve been lying about my age – but you haven’t arrested me yet or look as if you are going to any time soon. You also said earlier that you were here to recruit me, but I’m guessing that it isn’t you’re typical armed services recruitment because if it were you’d be directing me to the closest recruitment station. Which means that you represent a government company or some kind of spy organization that’s off the books. Of course I could be totally wrong in that wild assumption because it’s late, I’m still buzzed from those drinks I had tonight and I’ve probably been watching way too many Bond movies again. So, please, correct me if I’m wrong.”

Michael only offered up an annoying half smile and didn’t answer. Tony pursed his lips before looking back down at the folder, frowning when he read the large bold letters stamped across the front:  **I.D.C.A. PROFILE: ANTHONY DINOZZO JR.**

“What is I.D.C.A?” Tony asked.

“It’s the name of the Agency I represent,” Michael explained. “I.D.C.A. stands for the Internal Departmental Collaboration Agency.”

“Never heard of it,” Tony said, frowning.

“It’s a relatively new government agency,” Michael said, shrugging. “I myself have only been with IDCA for roughly a year now. I was approached a year into my career as an Army Ranger after a few years in the army as a sniper. They were impressed with my record in marksmanship.”

“Are all of IDCA’s recruits former armed service members?” Tony asked.

“Mostly.” Michael shrugged.

“Then why approach me?” Tony asked. “The only connection I have to anything militant is my three year stint as a high school student at the Rhode Island Military Academy my father forced me into.”

“That’s actually where you caught the Agency’s attention,” Michael said, smirking. “You excelled in basketball, football, wrestling,  _ and _ boxing, all while maintaining top notch grades in all of your classes in one of the most prestigious and challenging private schools on the east coast. You even continued to participate in basketball and football when you came here to attend Ohio State. Word is that you could have gone pro if your leg hadn’t been smashed up in your game against Michigan.”

“Thank you for reminding me,” Tony growled.

“Sorry.” Michael winced. “I’m sure that it’s still a sore issue, especially since your only job option at this point without further schooling is to become a high school gym teacher.”

Tony glared at the man, opening his mouth to make some biting or scathing remark back, but Michael steamrolled on, holding his hands up in a placating gesture.

“Unless! Unless you take the offer I’m about to present to you from the Agency.”

“I’m listening,” Tony said crisply.

“Like I’ve said, IDCA has been keeping an eye on you since you were in high school,” Michael said slowly, carefully choosing his words so that he didn’t set off the irate young man sitting opposite him. “You’ve obviously got a brain in that head of yours and have also got amazing stamina to be able to participate in as many sports and clubs as you have to maintain your jock persona. Both are qualities that the Agency looks for in a potential recruit. Preferably you’d have some military experience, but due to your commendable athleticism and potential, the Agency has decided to overlook that little blip and hire you on anyway as a low rank agent. However, should you choose to accept this offer and join IDCA, you will have to go through various training exercises to get up to snuff with the rest of the agents.”

“Agents. Training. Military experience? What sort of agency is IDCA anyway?” Tony asked.

“Just as you suspected,” Michael stated simply. “IDCA is a government agency that only its members and a few high ranking government officials know about. We sometimes hire out our lower ranking members to the local police to help with high profile cases under the guise of being FBI, CIA, NSA and other members of the alphabet soup to get the job done. When there is an especially high profile case that comes to our attention that even the alphabet soup needs help with, the teams that we’ve planted one of our special agents inside of gets assigned to work the case. When there is a mission like that, to prevent the inevitable pissing contest that happens when agencies are forced to share jurisdiction, our agent is already in contact and working with other IDCA agents planted inside of other organizations.”

“Internal department collaboration,” Tony mused, understanding the Agency’s name now.

“Precisely,” Michael nodded. “We coordinate and collaborate when others won’t. We’re also kind of like the alphabet soup’s secret Internal Affairs as well. If an IDCA agent finds an inexcusable degree of inter office incooperation, we report it to the agency’s head, and an inquiry is made.”

“What government agency have you been planted in?” Tony asked.

“I haven’t been assigned to any specific government agency yet,” Michael admitted. “Like I said, I’ve been working for IDCA for only a year now. I just finished my special agent training a month ago. I’ve been given a list and assigned to recruit possible candidates for the Agency. You’re my last stop before reporting back.”

“Will you be planted into an agency when you return?” Tony asked.

“No.” Michael shook his head. “I’ve been commended for my training and have been promised to be given a team of my own before they plant me in an agency. If you take this offer and sign up to join IDCA, I’ll more than likely be your supervisor and oversee your training.”

“You keep mentioning training.” Tony frowned. “What kind of training?”

“Basic operations training,” Michael sighed. “Because of your lack of military experience, you’ll likely spend some time in a military or army camp, as well as attend a few mission training ops run by Langley. It depends on how ambitious you are. The more training you undergo, the higher up the agency ladder you can go.”

“Seems like a lot of work,” Tony mused.

“The I.D.C.A. only hires personnel with the potential to be the best and will only accept and keep on those individuals who meet those expectations. I suppose you can say that our agents are the best of the best, forming a highly trained special mission force.” Michael smirked. “The I.D.C.A.’s overall objective is to defend American freedom against oppression and any terrorist organization that threatens that freedom. Where everything and everyone else fails, we don’t.”

“That sounds very G.I. Joe,” Tony snorted. “You wouldn’t happen to be watching those cartoon reruns would you?”

Michael chuckled, shaking his head.

“I understand your skepticism. I really do,” Michael sighed. “I didn’t believe in any of this when I was recruited.”

“So what did your recruiter say that convinced you to join up?” Tony asked.

“Oh he was a real piece of work,” Michael laughed. “He got on his patriotic soap box and started to monologue about the greater good for the American people and how much more of a service I would be to my country if I joined up. What got me to join up in the end was the promise to travel the world more than I ever would have if I’d stayed with the Army. The bigger paycheck didn’t hurt either.  But to be honest, I didn’t believe in what he was preaching until he brought me to headquarters the first time. Want to know what really convinced me that the IDCA’s overly dramatic, movie-esque mission statement wasn’t just a load of hypocritical BS?”

“Enlighten me,” Tony drawled.

“My first tour of the facilities,” Michael stated. “While everything there is state of the art – which is nice as far as technology is concerned – what was really impressive to me were the people there. Everyone in IDCA believes in the peace and freedom that they are working towards for our country. They act as a unit and do some of the most impressive work I have ever seen. Now, I won’t pretend that I’m the idealistic patriot that I’ve described IDCA’s agents to be – because I’m not – but even though everyone has their own reason for joining up, when you work with these people, you can’t help but start to pick up on some of their ideals and end up making them your own. However, because they are ridiculously idealistic, every possible candidate is observed before being approached to determine whether they have the moral sense of responsibility, duty and dedication to become an IDCA agent. I have been watching you for the last week and know that you have a growing sense of justice compatible with IDCA’s beliefs. When you demonstrated that earlier today I decided it was finally time to meet with you.”

“And when did I give you this demonstration?” Tony asked.

“When you went after that thief,” Michael smiled. “You didn’t even hesitate to go after the offender. You saw a wrong and sought to right it. Nice tackle by the way. You were quick to pin me and immobilize my movements by distributing your weight evenly to keep me subdued. Your wrestling prowess at work no doubt.”

“Thanks,” Tony sighed before freezing in realization, noticing the light bruises on Michael’s tanned arms that he’d somehow overlooked before. “Wait…that was you?!”

“Guilty.” Michael smirked. “I’m not easy to pin down, so I know first hand that you’ve got the potential, Anthony.”

“Tony. Anthony is my father. And how do you know that I didn’t chase after you to impress the hot babe you stole that purse from?” Tony asked, smirking at the thought of the bombshell he’d spent the night drinking and having sex with.

“Like I said,” Michael sighed. “You didn’t hesitate in pursuing me. It was a knee jerk reaction. You heard the distressed cry for help, spotted the reason for said cry, and acted to resolve the issue. Also, having followed you around, I’ve seen the subtle ways you’ve helped out some of your friends, classmates, and even that one new professor you saved from embarrassment in front of her colleagues. Nice job diverting attention onto yourself with that ridiculous prank with the projector.”

Tony smirked as he remembered rigging the projector to spray a can of confetti all over the nearest grouping of students. He’d gotten reprimanded for that, but the professor let him off with only a warning since he had saved her from what could have been a disastrous lecture. The note cards she’d been holding had almost fallen out of her trembling hands while she was being evaluated. The prank had released the tension in the room and had given the evaluators the opinion that the poor professor’s nerves had been because of Tony’s apparent tendency to pull disruptive pranks in class.

“Ok,” Tony sighed. “So you’re offering me a position in this agency of yours.”

“That’s right,” Michael said, nodding.

“And why should I accept this generous offer other than the fact that even being considered for a position is apparently flattering?” Tony asked.

“There are a number of reasons,” Michael said with a shrug. “It pays well, it has opportunities that allow you to travel the world, great health and dental benefits… but in your case, since you obviously don’t care about any of those things, I only want you to consider this, Tony.”

Michael clasped his hands together again and leaned forward, staring into Tony’s eyes with a serious and earnest expression.

“Your leg got busted up too badly for you to go pro in any professional sports career you may have had and for that I am sorry. The way I see it, you’ve got two options after you graduate on Saturday. The first option is the most challenging. You can take my offer, join IDCA, go through the training programs, stick it out and become an agent who’s in a position to make a difference in this world we live in. Or, you can take the easy route and stay here, take that P.E. teacher gig in the next town over, and have a safe steady low paying job with few benefits. It’s your choice.”

“Some choice,” Tony scoffed.

“It is,” Michael agreed. “Now, I’m not saying joining the I.D.C.A. will be easy, but if there is anything I’ve learned during the short time I’ve been watching you, it’s that you’re a fighter who likes a challenge. In all of your games no matter what sport you play you’ve always given 110%. And with a drive like that I personally can’t picture you just wasting your life and potential away as a high school gym teacher when you can do so much more.”

Tony was quiet while he thought about what Michael had told him.

“Being an IDCA agent certainly sounds like a more interesting life,” Tony mused.

“It is.” Michael nodded. “It certainly keeps you on your toes. Because of your lack of military experience, most of your covers on IDCA assignments will be that of a beat cop starting out, but the longer you remain with the agency, the covers will improve in ranking.”

“A cop huh,” Tony mused. “Sounds tedious.”

“Yeah,” Michael agreed as he stood up, “but it sure beats being a gym teacher, doesn’t it?”

Tony nodded absently, watching Michael pick up the profile folder and tuck it under his arm.

“Here’s my card,” Michael said as he took out a professional looking business card from his shirt pocket. “Call me if you have any more questions. I’m only staying in town until Sunday evening. If you don’t get in touch with me by then I’ll just assume that you’ve decided to turn down the Agency’s offer. If you decide to take the offer, I’ll be waiting for you to join me on my flight with one suitcase and a carry-on bag packed with only the basic essentials and a few personal possessions.  Judging by the looks of this apartment that isn’t much anyway.”

Tony snorted, but nodded again as he watched Michael head towards the front door.

“Oh and Tony?” Michael said turning back, halfway out the door. “Don’t be late. The flight is from Port Columbus Airport at 5:50 to JFK airport in New York.”

Tony stared at the closed door for another long minute or two before heading to bed. It was now 2 o’clock in the morning and he had a lot to think about when he got up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FUN FACTS: Just so you know the dates for Tony's final week and graduation are totally bogus and a complete educated guess on my part based off of the 1992 calendar and a PDF file I downloaded of OSU's 1991-1992 academic year. I've never been to Ohio - let alone OSU - so I don't know when in 1992 they had their graduation for those graduating in the spring semester. :P
> 
> Also, I added a 1 in front of the 950 that Tony claims he got on his SAT in NCIS, because when I looked up the total points one can get when you add up the Math, Writing and Reading scores on the SAT (which is 2400 just fyi) I realized that 950 wasn't impressive for the IQ I'm giving Tony, so he has a score of 1950, which is above average. Michael's mentioned SAT score of 1565 is closer to the average people usually get these days.
> 
> Oh, and please know that I know nothing about government agencies apart from what I've seen watching CBS and USA's most awesomest shows (and Bones)! And be rest assured that there will be canon events from all series in later fics (accept for Supernatural and Dark Angel. Those are going to be almost completely AU since I only wanted to use Max, Alec and Ben, and have Dean (and maybe Sam later) in this). These story ideas just sort of brings them all together and take place behind the scenes of the canon series.
> 
> Oh, and please know that I know nothing about government agencies apart from what I've seen watching CBS and USA's most awesomest shows (and Bones)! And be rest assured that there will be canon events from all series in this fic (accept for Supernatural and Dark Angel. Those are going to be almost completely AU since I only wanted to use Max and have Dean (and maybe Sam later) in this). This story idea just sort of brings them all together and takes place behind the scenes of the canon series.


	2. Life Changing Decisions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Edited Nov 8, 2017*

### Friday June 12, 1992

Tony sat heavily on his couch after returning to his apartment. He jabbed the ‘play’ button on his phone’s answering machine and glared at the device as it replayed the message he’d listened to at least four times since he’d gotten it that morning.

“ _ Anthony. It’s me, your father. You’re going to have to face reality sooner or later, boy. Your dream’s dead. Get over it and move on. Becoming a professional athlete was a fool's dream and we both know that you’re not going to settle with becoming a damn gym teacher. Come to your senses and come home. There’s a secretary position open for you at the company to get you started. We can talk about you starting your business degree at NYU later. Call me back as soon as you get this message and let me know when to send the jet to pick you up. _ ” – CLICK – 

Tony scowled and rewound the tape so that the next message he received could record over it. He was beyond pissed that his father just assumed that he’d come crawling back. Contrary to his father’s beliefs, he’d rather take the gym teacher gig than go back to New York and do his father’s bidding. He wanted out of that world and to have nothing to do with his father’s controlling and manipulative ways. That had been the whole point in attending Ohio State and getting a degree in Physical Education. To be stubborn. Insubordinate. To defy his father and be the complete opposite of the person his father wanted him to be.

For what seemed like the hundredth time that day, Tony pulled out the business card he’d been given. It only had the initials I.D.C.A printed at the top of the card with a boldly printed number under the word “Recruitment” in the center. He thought about last night’s conversation. It was tempting. It sounded like a lot of work, but the man who’d come over last night had mentioned that a lot of his jobs for the IDCA starting out would be that of a regular beat cop. If becoming a P.E. teacher pissed his father off, becoming a cop (or any kind of law-enforcement, actually) would  _ really _ piss Anthony DiNozzo Senior off. 

Tony chuckled softly at the thought of his old man’s reaction, and knew that he had a third option now too. With his grades he could easily go to the police academy and become a cop. It was a kind of a middle ground he supposed. Becoming a cop had better prospects than becoming a gym teacher, and it would most certainly be easier than spending years of training and getting his ass beat into shape in order to become some super spy government agent.

But then again…

Tony glanced over at his small VHS collection. At least half of them were James Bond films – he had all of the ones that stared Sean Connery – and the other half were cop/spy thrillers like  _ Die Hard _ . Growing up with those kinds of movies, Tony had often wondered what life would be like as a spy. Now here he was with a very real chance of living out that fantasy. He wasn’t deluded enough to think that the life would be as glamorous as it was in James Bond. It would be hard and a lot of work – one didn’t learn those cool spy skills over night, he knew that – but the idea was stuck in his head. Agent Anthony DiNozzo – Super Spy. Now that had a nice ring to it.

Tony shook his head, stuffing the business card back into his pocket. This was a serious decision he had to make. He couldn’t just make it with half-baked fantasies. He had to want this. He knew that he had to be sure that this was what he wanted when– IF!  **_If_ ** he accepted Michael Weston’s offer and got on that plane to New York. It couldn’t be just for kicks and a kid’s dream of wanting to become a spy. And who said he’d become a spy anyway? Sure, Michael had mentioned a whole lot of spy-sounding jargon, but this sounded more like a military run – or at least military funded – agency if most of its agents were former armed service members selected for their prowess in the field. If he chose this, it wasn’t going to be easy and he knew it. Michael had told him that he’d have to go to some form of boot camp and play catch up just so that he could even be in the same league as the rest of the recruits. That right there was going to be a bitch with his still recovering leg injury.

But all that hard work could be worth it. He knew that. Michael had also mentioned traveling, good pay, benefits, and, quite frankly, it sounded like the chance of a lifetime. Surely he could put up with a few years of whatever training this gig entailed after three years of toughing it out at Ohio State cut off from his father’s influences and money. He’d been learning things the hard way on his own, broke and living off scholarships, financial aid, and a small salary from a job he’d had until recently at a local diner. On top of all that, he’d still managed to participate in all of those sports, clubs and classes in order to graduate within three years. Sure, this would be a different kind of hardship, but who knows? 

Maybe Michael was making this whole training and recruitment business out to be harder than it really was. In spite of his injury, Tony was still a very athletic person and had kept up some of his workout regimen while his leg was healing to remain in shape. Hey! Maybe this I.D.C.A. agency would cover his remaining bills and expenses. Didn’t military groups do that for their recruits? They had that GI bill thing and special insurance to cover their schooling and medical expenses didn’t they?

Tony pursed his lips together and looked around his apartment. It held the barest of essentials and it had come “fully” furnished, so none of the furniture was his. Everything he owned could easily fit into one suitcase and a carry-on.

The phone rang, cutting off his thoughts, and Tony was tempted to ignore it in case it was his father again. When it reached its fifth ring, however, he decided to pick up.

“Hullo?” He sighed.

“Still thinking it over, huh, Champ?”

Tony’s body snapped to attention.

“Michael Weston?”

“You remember my name. I’m flattered,” the older man’s voice said, sounding amused. “I’m over at the diner at the end of the block. Why don’t you come join me for a late lunch, my treat, and we can discuss my offer in more detail now that you’re completely sober and don’t have distracting exams to study for.”

Michael hung up without waiting for a response. Tony stared at the phone in his hand bewilderedly for a minute and then set it back down on the cradle. He mulled his options over in his head again before grabbing his wallet and keys and headed out the door.

The walk to the diner wasn’t a long one, but Tony took his time, trying to put his thoughts in order so that he had an idea of what he wanted to ask. When he entered the diner, he looked around and spotted Michael Weston sitting in a corner booth near the back of the diner. He was dressed in the same polo and jeans combination, only this time the polo was an off-white color instead of dark navy. He was also wearing a pair of dark tinted sunglasses. Tony noted the way Michael sat slouched in the booth in a relaxed manner, but could still detect alertness in the set of his shoulders and the smallest of movements the guy’s head made as he undoubtedly scanned the interior of the diner behind the dark lenses.

“Tony!” the man smiled as he approached. “Glad you could join me.”

Tony nodded as he slid into the bench across from Michael.

“I trust that by now you have some questions,” Michael said, smiling.

“You know that I do,” Tony huffed. “Why else would I come?”

“Promise of a free meal? I did say it was my treat.” Michael shrugged.

“Ok, you got me there,” Tony laughed, relaxing just a fraction.

“Tony!” a cheerful female voice called out suddenly.

Tony looked up and spotted Diana Miller, a waitress he usually worked with before he’d cut back on his work shifts in preparation for quitting. Last Sunday afternoon had been his last shift.

“Hey Di,” Tony greeted as she approached their table.

“So you’re the friend David’s been visiting,” she said, grinning. “He’s been waiting here for the last half hour.”

David?

Tony noted the half-full pitcher and a cup of coffee on the table next to Michael. He glanced curiously at the other man and saw that his companion’s gaze was fixed casually on him, but there was an intensity in his gaze behind the sunglasses. 

“Yeah, well, I only just got out of my last final and had to drop by the bookstore to return and sell back my textbooks. Not like I need them anymore, right?” Tony said, flashing her a charming smile.

“Right.” Diana nodded. “So what can I get you guys? Your usual, David?”

“Yes, please,” Michael nodded. “With a Coke.”

“And you, Tony?” Diana asked, turning back to him.

“Ah… let's go with the Bacon Cheeseburger,” Tony mused, “and I’ll have a Coke as well.”

“Sure thing,” Diana nodded, taking the pitcher of coffee and empty cup from Michael. “Be back with those in a jiff.”

Once she was out of earshot, Tony addressed the man across from him.

“David?”

“She thinks I’m David Henderson and that I’m in town visiting a friend for the week so that I can attend their graduation,” Michael said with a shrug.

“Why the fake name?” Tony asked, curious.

“I don’t want to draw attention to myself should something unexpected come up,” Michael said. “I’m here to recruit you, Tony, for an agency that isn’t public knowledge. If someone notices me hanging around, I need a credible identity and a reason for being here. Michael Weston has military connections and a presence that might draw suspicion from the Local Leos, but David Henderson is a low-end businessman with boring credentials who’s just here visiting a friend.”

“Are you expecting something to happen?” Tony asked, frowning.

“No,” Michael shook his head, “but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared for anything from a minor problem like a bank robbery to a national threat such as a terrorist attack.”

Tony nodded absently, attention diverted momentarily when Diana returned with his bacon cheeseburger and Michael’s “usual” – an Italian BMT with extra pickles on the side.

“So,” Tony started, after a bite of his burger. “This job offer…what are the terms and conditions exactly, should I say yes? What happens?”

Michael finished swallowing a bite of his sandwich before answering.

“Well, first, you get on that plane with me to New York. From there we get you registered and settled into temporary quarters where you’ll be evaluated. Most of it is a background check, review of your records, and a medical exam to check your physical fitness and determine when you’ll be able to start the more hands on training. While all that’s going on, I’ll be showing you and the other recruits the headquarters and facilities, explaining official procedures in better detail than the quick review I’m giving you now. Should you pass all the qualifications – and I have no doubts that you will – then you’ll come with me and the other passing recruits to Colorado where we have a special training facility and you’ll be assigned a bunkmate and unit that will rotate with other units through a series of training programs and regimens. Some with be physically demanding, like going to an army or marine boot camp, while others will be more mentally stimulating in the form of workshops and classes.”

Tony mulled the information over in his head, taking another bite of his burger to stall for time so that he could form his next question.

“What about payment?” Tony asked. “Is the agency going to be covering all expenses or am I expected to pay a monthly fee for room and board while going through all this training?”

“The agency will cover all expenses as far as your room and board goes, and you’ll be given a bi-weekly paycheck – call it a living allowance if you want – for other personal expenses. The amount you receive depends on how well you’re doing in your current exercise. This would be a great opportunity to put that brain of yours to the test and excel instead of holding back like you have been. And before you ask, yes, the I.D.C.A. will pay off anything you owe for tuition and any medical bills you still have. We want you to take this offer and join our agency, Tony.”

“I admit that I’m not seeing a downside,” Tony smiled. “Nothing but benefits from you guys.”

“True, but those benefits are earned and I do feel that I must warn you that this isn’t going to be some cake walk, Tony,” Michael said seriously, hands clasping in front of him and the remaining half of his sandwich was pushed to the side, forgotten. “This training is going to test you, push you, like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. And once you’re in, you’re in. The Agency isn’t going to let you simply leave and walk away. Becoming an IDCA Agent is serious business. You’ll learn government secrets, military tactics, and your life will be put on the line for the sake of national security. Even if you’re passed over or refuse placement on a pro-active field team, you’ll still be relegated to operating as an agent working inside other government agencies like the FBI and CIA to make sure that everyone plays nice and gets along. You will find yourself put in dangerous situations working crime scenes and high profile casework. This training is to prepare you for that. You’ll not only learn combat and field training, but forensics and how to case a crime scene, log evidence, examine cadavers, the works. Basically the IDCA is training you to become whatever they need you to be, whether that’s a local cop, Private Detective, Forensic Analyst, or a member of a Major Case Response Team in the FBI. Hell! Maybe you’ll be assigned to serve as a Secret Service agent and protect the President.”

“Sounds like the IDCA is a lot more than some peace keeping organization,” Tony said softly.

Michael paused in his little rant and leaned over his clasped hands, lens covered eyes boring into Tony’s.

“The IDCA is whatever this country needs it to be. They prepare future agents like you and me to cover a variety of fields so that we can get jobs done that others can’t do on their own. That’s why the IDCA is so selective of their agents. They may be small, but the agency is growing, and in the end, we just might be the ones that keep this country from falling apart.”

“So much for not being taken in by their patriotic BS, then huh?” Tony murmured.

Michael cracked a small smile, pulling back to lounge on his side of the table.

“Joke while you can, DiNozzo, but this is serious stuff,” he said.

“Oh, I have no doubts about that,” Tony nodded, reclining in his seat to match Michael’s relaxed posture. “You’ve made that ominously clear.”

“I’m sensing a “but” in there.”

“But…What if I can’t cut it?” Tony frowned. “What then?”

Michael nodded slowly and seemed to take great care in deliberating how he was going to answer. He took a bite out of his previously abandoned sandwich and looked around the diner. After a minute of contemplation he set the sandwich back down, swallowed what he had in his mouth, sighed, took off his sunglasses, and stared Tony dead in the eye.

“That’s a very reasonable question,” Michael said carefully, “but not one I know a definite answer for. If you don’t make it through the screening process in New York, fine, you’ll be sworn to secrecy about our organization but free to go and take that teaching position in the next town over, or apply and attend the Police Academy. They’ll pay for your flight back, and write a glowing recommendation for you to help you on your way. As I said earlier, though, I doubt you’ll fail the screening process. In Colorado during the actual training sessions, if you fail to meet standards… I honestly don’t know. I’ve yet to meet or even hear of a recruit that wasn’t up to snuff. The IDCA is very careful about who they recruit to begin with. If there is even a doubt that they might not be able to handle what we have in store for them, they don’t make it past the screening process. If you happen to be failing in one area, you may just need extra training or are simply not fit for that kind of work. Not all recruits will be field agents. Some of them are desk jockeys, paper pushers, legal, technical and tactical support. All kinds are hired, though everyone is expected to meet baseline requirements.”

“And what are those baseline requirements?” Tony asked.

“That any representative of the IDCA is fit, knows all standard operating procedures for any event and is capable of handling themselves in foreign environments and dangerous situations,” Michael shrugged. “Even the pencil necks need to know how to defend themselves and use a firearm. I don’t think you need to worry, though, Tony. I believe that you have the potential to be a great agent and will go far in the IDCA.”

Tony offered up a small smile and stared down at his coke bottle, swirling the remains of the beverage around as he took in all that Michael had told him.

“How long does the training process last?” Tony asked.

“It depends on the person,” Michael shrugged. “Some only need a year, others two, maybe three. Considering your non-military background, though, I peg you as a three-year trainee. Two years if you really apply yourself. During the screening process your current capabilities will be assessed and later you’ll be paired with a bunkmate and placed in a unit that rank at the same perceived level of ability and the amount of training required before being made a grunt agent. Again, I’ll explain this sort of information in more detail once we reach New York.”

“You said that you’ve been with the IDCA for only a year,” Tony said. “Have you completed your training or do you still need more training?”

“I had a rather long six-year career in the Army before I became an Army Ranger two years ago. It was during my short one-year stint as a Ranger that I caught the IDCA’s attention with my impressive marksmanship. Even now I still hold the current training record for a sniper. With all I’ve accomplished in the field, I easily passed all requirements for basic training within a year,” Michael nodded. “But in a sense, I am still in training, just a different kind than what everyone does going in. During these coming years I’ll be assessed on my leadership and command skills as I oversee your batch of recruits’ training. If I’m deemed proficient, I’ll be assigned command of a team in a field deemed worthy of the assembled team’s skill set. If I’m deemed exemplary, I’ll be allowed to hand pick my team and decide the kinds of cases I want to take. Who knows? Until you’re placed as an IDCA agent inside the same government agency for more than a couple of years, or assigned to an established field special missions team, you’ll always be training for something.” 

Tony nodded and it was silent for the remainder of the meal and even through their dessert – apple pie – that they ordered from Diana when she came by to check on them. It wasn’t until after Michael paid Diana for their meal that they spoke again.

“So what do you think, Tony?” Michael asked.

“I honestly don’t know,” Tony admitted. “I want to say yes. It sounds so much better than being a gym teacher or a regular beat cop…but I’m just not sure if I can do it though. It sounds so fantastic and very James Bond, but…”

“I understand,” Michael nodded, standing up. “You need more time to think it through. I’m actually glad you’re taking your time to think this offer over before giving me an answer. The first meeting is just to get the idea out there, get you thinking. The second meeting is to give you a taste of what being an IDCA agent could be like, what it could mean for you, and to answer any questions that might have arisen after the first meeting. Almost all of the potential recruits I’ve spoken to gave me an answer after the second meeting.”

“What about you? How many meetings did you have with your recruiter before you agreed to join up?” Tony asked.

“Why don’t we continue this conversation outside? Walk with me,” Michael said, nodding towards the door.

They exited the diner and began to walk around the block, not really heading anywhere in particular – that Tony was aware of at any rate.

“My recruiter wasn’t actually the one who convinced me to join up,” Michael confessed. “I don’t even remember his name actually. It was the man he worked for that convinced me in the end, and this is a man I’ve only ever known as Coulson. I’m not even sure the guy has a first name aside from Agent. Anyway, Coulson has kind of become like my supervisor. My handler, if you will. I go where he says. He’s one of those people that have an ambiguous kind of desk job and you’re never really sure what he really does, but you know that it’s important. I do know, however, that he’s part of the team that finds possible new recruits like you and will be one of the select personnel who will be reviewing your records and assessing your capabilities. That kind of seems to be his thing. Coulson is one of the few agents who’ve been with the IDCA since it was established. Not a founder, per-say, but someone who was there and got in on the ground floor when the foundation was poured. He’s a records kind of guy and I doubt that there is anything going on in the IDCA that he doesn’t know about. Anyway, I apparently intrigued Coulson enough that he left New York’s HQ and came to help recruit me personally. He was there during my second meeting with my recruiter, but it wasn’t until my third meeting and after my recruiter had left that Coulson and I had a one-on-one and he convinced me to join up.”

“What did he say?” Tony asked.

“Well it wasn’t so much what he said that convinced me, but what he was like as a person. I was already sold on the idea that I’d get to travel more, and I certainly have done a lot of flying even if it’s only been all over these United States thus far,” Michael laughed, “but Coulson is the one that told me that the IDCA is about making a difference. We may join up because of awesome benefits like traveling or a cushy salary, but one day, whether it’s during training or when you’re out in the field, you’ll find yourself realizing that we make a difference in this world. He told me that sometimes being an IDCA agent will feel like a thankless job, but that in the end it will be worth it. That it’s going to be worthwhile, knowing that you’ve saved the lives of the people living in this country. We may have our own individual reasons for joining up, Tony, but in the end, we all will continue doing what they train us to do because one day you’ll feel pride in being one of the few that stand between the people of this country, and the tyranny of others, even the ones in our own backyard. He was talking about sleazy politicians, of course.”

Tony chuckled. “Still sounds like a guy on a soap box.”

“Yeah, the man is a patriot,” Michael shook his head, “but I could tell that he meant what he said, and he didn’t over embellish like my recruiter did. I told you last night, Tony, that it’s the people in this agency that really convinced me that all this patriotic propaganda isn’t complete bullshit. The IDCA may seem like a very suspicious shadowy government agency, but everyone in it, one way or another, comes to believe that they are doing what is right for our country, and for it’s people. When you work for people like Coulson, you want to be the kind of man that he believes you can be, and he’s just one in an entire government agency that’s dedicated to those beliefs. Tony, even if you find that you can’t hack it as an agent, or something happens like your leg injury that renders you unable to actively participate in the field, the IDCA will find some other kind of position for you, because if you say yes and join up, you become one of us, and I’ve learned very quickly during my one year with the IDCA, that we take care of our own.”

Tony was silent for a long time letting all of that sink in. He honestly felt relieved at the news. The agency wouldn’t just drop him, like his sports coaches and teams had when he’d injured his leg. Joining this IDCA was sounding better and better the more he thought about it, but still…

“I’ll let you think it over some more,” Michael’s voice suddenly penetrated his thoughts.

Tony snapped back to reality and realized that they’d stopped in front of his apartment building.

“You have my number. Call me if you have any more questions and we can set up a third meeting. If not, remember that the flight is from Port Columbus Airport at 5:50 to JFK in New York. Hopefully, I’ll see you there, Tony.” Michael smiled before leaving.

Tony watched the man walk away until he seemed to vanish within the small foot traffic further down the block.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand I ended up bringing in Avenger's Agent Coulson into this fic. Wow this is turning out to be a pretty big crossover in the works. I mean I'd already planed to have characters from NCIS (Tony), Burn Notice (Michael), Bones (Booth) Bourne Series (Jason Bourne), and Dark Angel (Max), but now I'm going to add characters from Supernatural (Dean Winchester at the very least, maybe Sam), Phil Coulson and maybe some others from the Avengers verse, and I now want to not only have Max, but Ben and Alec from Dark Angel as well. We'll see how this goes. For now we'll just stick to NCIS, Burn Notice, Bones, and Bourne and see where we get with that.
> 
> Hopefully I'll post the next and last chapter of this fic and will be able to move on to the longer, and intended purpose of this series. Feel free to drop a note/comment and let me know what you think so far and what you might like to see next. I have a few ideas in the works for how Tony meets David Webb/Jason Bourne, Michael recruiting Booth, and little private outside-of-training team moments.


	3. A New Begining

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this ended up coming out a few years later than intended. So sorry for the wait you guys, but the third and final chapter for this first fic in the IDCA series is finally posted. The first half of this chapter had been wasting away in my files for these last 3-4 years and I've only just now rediscovered it and finished it. It's not as long as I'd thought it'd be, but it's just kind of a round up chapter before I get to the rest of it in other one-shots and the first big story with the team. This chapter is just Tony's decision and what happens after it's been made. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for reading. Hopefully it won't be another 3-4 years before I post the next installment. :)

### Sunday June 14, 1992

Tony stood in the entryway of his apartment to take one last look at what had been his home for the last three years. Everything he owned was in a pickup truck that he’d borrowed from one of his frat brothers for the day. His suitcase was packed with all of the clothes and movies he’d decided to keep and his carry-on was filled with the few personal items he was taking with him. Everything else was packed away in a few boxes full of clothes, books, movies and a few other miscellany items. Some were going into storage; the rest was going to be dropped off at the local Salvation Army on his way to the airport.

Yes, Tony DiNozzo had made his decision. He was going to join the IDCA. He’d thought about it all Friday night after his second meeting with Michael, and all through his graduation ceremony the following Saturday morning. 

He hadn’t really expected anyone in particular to show up for his graduation, so seeing Michael after the ceremony and being treated to another lunch, and dinner later on, was a pleasant surprise. Michael had been there just for him and there hadn’t been any talk about the IDCA that time. Tony and Michael had just spent the afternoon talking about normal everyday things, like Tony’s finals, classmates and the graduation ceremony. Michael told Tony a little about the time he’d spent in the army. They talked about their families and realized that they both had assholes for fathers and were looking for an escape from their childhoods.

Tony had been sad to see the day end and when he was left alone in his small apartment he found a few demanding voicemails from his father. Tony was already leaning heavily towards joining the IDCA, but the last voicemail on his machine had been the final nail in the coffin. 

“ _ Anthony, my patience with your childishness is wearing thin. Quit sulking and pick up the Goddamned phone! …I’m sending the jet out tomorrow. Gerald will be on it and will come to help you pack if need be, so that you can be home by tomorrow night. I have a meeting set up on Tuesday for you to meet with the head of our Human Resources department for that secretary position I mentioned in the last few messages. We’ll discuss further details when you get home. I’ll see you soon, Anthony.” _

Tony had started packing soon after listening to that. Now he stood with the keys to his now former apartment in one hand, and a garbage bag full of trash in the other. 

With one final sweeping glance around the sparse space, Tony stepped out the door and locked it behind him. He disposed of the garbage before making his way to his landlord’s apartment to return his keys and finalized the details for terminating his lease. All was then taken care of.

The next couple of hours passed by in a haze for Tony while he made stops to drop off some of his things at the Salvation Army and paid for a small storage locker to hold the rest. With that taken care of, Tony returned the truck and headed to the nearest bus stop with only his suitcase and carry-on. He arrived at Port Columbus Airport around two o’clock, but it wasn’t until he got off the bus that he realized that he wasn’t sure what to do next. He didn’t have a plane ticket yet and wasn’t sure which airline to head towards. He was about to start looking for the nearest payphone to call Michael when a hand clamped down on his shoulder.

Tony jumped in surprise and found himself facing the very man he’d been about to call.

“Tony!” Michael grinned. “Glad you decided to join me. We’re flying Delta.”

Tony let out a sigh of relief and followed the older man to the Delta Airlines counter. When checking in their luggage, Tony noted that Michael only carried an Army-issue duffle bag with him that was checked in as carry-on luggage. Tony’s suitcase was tagged and sent away on a conveyer belt and the backpack that was his carry-on was checked in and tagged as well. Tony and Michael took their time making their way through security and to their terminal. They sat back at one of the few food places there – a McDonalds – and ate a late lunch. They passed the time eating french-fries and swapping stories.

When their flight finally started boarding Tony felt a wave of excitement flow over him. This was it. He was finally going to step out of his father’s shadow for good and start a new life. An unusual one to be sure, but one that he was looking forward to beginning with rampant anticipation.

The flight was an hour and twenty minutes long and after they touched down at JFK, Tony followed Michael to the luggage carousel and to the parking lot where they got inside a black non-descript car. It was another couple of hours driving as they drove out of New York City and into the country where they arrived at a bright shining modern compound seemingly in the middle of nowhere.

Tony felt both excited and nervous when Michael drove the car into an underground parking ramp and parked in a line of similar model cars. From there they headed to an elevator that took them back up to the ground level. Upon exiting the elevator, Tony was met with the sight of cool grey granite floors and muted white walls. There was also a glass ceiling in what was clearly the lobby of the compound. He followed Michael to a marble desk where a woman with hair in a strict military bun was situated in a navy business dress suit.

“Agent Hill, lovely to see you as always. I see you’re on desk duty tonight,” Michael said in greeting. “I have Anthony DiNozzo Jr. with me awaiting registration for recruitment.”

The woman nodded, typing away at a computer Tony couldn’t see behind the desk.

“Room A02 is open. Agent Coulson is expecting you and shall meet you there,” she said, as she reached into a drawer and pulled out a clip-on badge that said RECRUIT on it. She handed the badge to Tony. “Welcome to the I.D.C.A, Mr. DiNozzo.”

Tony nodded, taking the badge from her and followed Michael back to the elevator. The man hit the button for the top floor this time and they exited onto a floor that was all white. White tile, white walls, white doors, and a white ceiling. The only color was the black letters and numbers on the doors that lined the hall.

Michael let him to a room at the end of the hall on their right that had A02 painted on in sharp calligraphy.

“Good luck, Champ,” Michael said, patting him on the shoulder. “I’ll see you when you’re done.”

Tony felt his mouth go dry as the older man left him standing before the door, heading back to the elevator. Swallowing his nerves down, Tony knocked on the door, entering only when he heard a soft “Come in.”

The inside was thankfully not white. The floor was plain grey cement and the walls were a light grey color, softening the single florescent light in the room. There was only a simple table and two plastic chairs. Sitting in one of the chairs was an unassuming looking man in his mid to late thirties with ordinary brown hair, flat grey eyes, and a bland smile. He was the most unremarkable man Tony had ever met. But those grey eyes held an intensity that warned him that the man was not as he appeared.

“Please take a seat, Mr. DiNozzo, and we’ll get started. I’m Agent Coulson, and I’ll be registering you within our system,” the man said, setting aside a file with his name on it, not unlike the one that Michael had had on him during their first meeting. In front of the man was a clipboard hold various official looking documents.

Tony slowly eased himself into the other chair. 

“Pleasure to meet you,” he said. “Michael Weston talks very highly of you.”

Coulson gave him another bland smile. “And your record reflects very highly on you. I must admit, I’m impressed, Mr. DiNozzo, and that’s not a very easy thing to do, especially considering that you are a civilian and not here because you did something in the Armed Forces to impress us. You appear to be highly intelligent as well as athletic, so that certainly counts in your favor. Your recovering injury may be a bit of an issue starting out, but I have no doubts that it’ll clear up with some structured PT and a consistent exercise regimen. We’ll look more into that during your physical tomorrow. For now, will you please fill out these forms so that we may run a background check?”

Tony accepted the clipboard Coulson pushed in front of him and began to fill it out. The only sound in the room was their soft breathing and the faint scratching of the pen as Tony completed the information. He noted that there was no current address slot to fill out. Only previous residences. The back half of the form and the attached secondary page turned out to be a questionnaire of sorts that left him confused for a moment with it’s seemingly random questions before he shrugged it off and answered it to the best of his abilities. Some were mathematical equations, others were riddles. One asked him what he would do if he were to come across an injured dog on the side of the road.

When he was done, he made sure that he had filled in everything and had answered every single question before sliding the clipboard back over to Coulson. Coulson then spent the next half hour reviewing what he’d written down. His expression remained neutral for the most part. Occasionally an eyebrow would rise a fraction or his mouth would curl up in a corner like a repressed smile, but for the most part the man gave no indication of how Tony had done.

After what felt like an eternity, Coulson set the clipboard aside, smiled another bland smile, and then rose to his feet, offering Tony his hand.

“I look forward to seeing you progress,” he said as they shook hands. “Welcome to the I.D.C.A, Agent DiNozzo. If you head back down the elevator to the ground floor, Agent Hill will give you a room key and direct you to your temporary quarters where I’m sure you’ll find Agent Weston, who will show you around.”

“Thank you,” Tony said, stunned that that was all he had to do at present, but didn’t complain as he left the room and made his way back down to the lobby and Agent Hill’s reception desk.

“You’ll be in Room Q07 on level 2,” Hill said without looking up at him as she placed a folder on the desk with a keycard on top of it. “That’s your welcome packet and schedule for your stay here at HQ. I’m sure if you have questions, Agent Weston will be able to answer them.”

“Thanks,” Tony said, taking the keycard and folder, and headed back to the elevator.

The second floor was just like the top floor had been; white.  Room Q07 was three quarters of the way down the hall on the left. When he opened the door, using his keycard, he found himself in a small bare bones room with only a full bed, a small desk, and a chair. There was a window in the wall opposite the doorway above the bed. It was a small cramped space, but Tony figured that it was only a temporary arrangement. His bags were already waiting for him on the bed.

“It’s small and basic, but you won’t be spending much time in here anyway,” Michael’s voice said, coming from behind him. “In case you’re wondering, the restrooms are at the end of the hall. Men’s on the left, Women’s on the right.”

Tony turned and saw the man leaning in the doorway of the room opposite his in the hall.

“C’mon, I’ll show you around,” Michael said, pushing off and shutting his door behind him.

Tony set his welcome packet down, pocketed the keycard, and followed.

  
  


On Monday, Tony spent a majority of the morning performing various physical tasks after getting checked out by a doctor. They even had him run through an obstacle course. By the time they let him go to shower and have his lunch, he was exhausted. 

He didn’t get to see Michael much as the next few days progressed. Every morning he met with a physical therapist and spent his afternoons getting read in on the I.D.C.A.’s policies and all the various types of training he was expected to get through over the course of the next three years.

On Tuesday, he finally had his orders. His background check came back clean, his record spotless, and he was declared by PT and the doctors that he was fit enough to begin boot camp starting Monday next week at Parris Island. After he completed Boot Camp, he’d join a unit of recruits at the IDCA training compound in Colorado.

Marine Boot Camp took a total of thirteen weeks. The first four weeks weren’t too bad for Tony. The physical training was tough, sure, but with his athletics, he found he was in better shape than most recruits in his platoon starting out. The running and the conditioning marches were almost relaxing. It was the obstacle courses that were a pain in the ass. When they added in all the martial arts, hand-to-hand combat training, First Aid, and the Marine Corps History and Values classes, and Tony began to feel wrung out at the end of every day.

Then there were the weapons and field training sections that took place over the fifth through ninth weeks. That training was both stressful and more intense than that of the first four weeks. The worst of it was during what the Marines call, The Crucible. The Crucible was designed to emphasize trainee teamwork under stress. Tony and his fellow recruits got only about eight hours of sleep during a 54 hour exercise. They got two-and-a-half Meals Ready to Eat (MREs) and they were responsible for rationing out the food to themselves. During that time, Tony and his platoon were put through tough physical activities like road marches and night infiltration courses. They marched about 40 miles in those 54 hours. In comparison to The Crucible, the gas chamber training and the Field Firing Range course was a piece of cake. At least they were able to get a decent night’s sleep before those.

The last four weeks were running through swim qualifications, a defensive driving course, and a bunch of tests to make sure they were competent and qualified in what they had learned at boot camp. Tony had never felt so relieved and proud to be done when he found himself marching at graduation on the parade grounds with his fellow recruits, who were now graduated Marines. He felt even better when he realized that Michael Weston was there to not only congratulate him on successfully completing boot camp, but to fly out with him to Colorado where he’d be joining his IDCA Unit, which Michael was apparently in charge of.

It was strange to move from the large open quarters that he’d been sharing with his unit of fellow Boot Camp recruits, to a small two bed apartment in IDCA barracks. His new roommate had been staying in their quarters alone while he underwent some type of specialized training while Tony was at Boot Camp. 

“Hey, you must be Tony DiNozzo,” the guy said when Tony entered their shared living space for the first time. “I’m David Webb.”

“Nice to meet you, David,” Tony said as he shook his hand.

“How was Boot Camp?”

“Long and exhausting,” Tony sighed, “Glad to be done.” 

“How was being surrounded by a bunch of newbie Jarheads?” David asked.

“Fine. They were a good bunch of guys,” Tony sighed. “It was funny as hell though when some of the Gunnies decided to pull pranks on some of them. One of my bunkmates was asked to find a left handed spatula. Another guy from a different unit was asked to go to the medical supplies office to search for fallopian tubes.”

David laughed. 

“The best,” Tony said, grinning, “Was during our first week and our Gunny instructed this poor sap to perform a boom test on a howitzer by yelling BOOM down the tube to calibrate it. Lotta funny guys in the Marines, and yet they pull it off with a straight face.”

“Did you ever get pranked?” David asked.

“Yeah,” Tony snorted. “Got me when I was sleep deprived. I was asked to get a five-gallon bucket of dehydrated water. Took me a good while to realize Gunny Riggs just wanted an empty bucket.”

“Yeah, we have wise asses like that in the Army too,” David chuckled. “We were taking an inventory of supplies once and some bastard thought it’d be fully to hold up a spare pin and ask if anyone had seen his grenade.” 

“Oh man,” Tony laughed.

They spent the rest of the day chatting and getting to know each other. 

David turned out to be two years older than Tony, but had a baby face that made him look like he was still just a kid. He was from Nixa Missouri and had joined the Army in ‘88. He’d made the rank of Captain as a member of US Army Special Forces, before he’d gained the attention of IDCA and was recruited by Weston. David also knew a number of languages including Dutch, Spanish, French, German, Russian, and Italian. He was currently working on Czech and Polish. Tony only knew some Italian and a little bit of Spanish because of his mother. It was fun, though, seeing what he remembered with David. The two of them quickly became friends.

Tony wasn’t sure what was ahead for him as an agent for the I.D.C.A. as he settled into his new living quarters where he’d be spending the next 3 years, but he was looking forward to seeing where this new chapter in his life led him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Tony's joined the IDCA and not only have I pulled Coulson into this, Hill is here too. Let's see how many of Marvel's characters end up in here before I'm done with this universe. XD
> 
> And David has finally made an appearance! David Webb/Jason Bourne is Tony's Roommate! I can't wait to see what sort of adventures they get into with Michael. By the way, all of the stuff about Tony's time at Boot Camp is true. My dad is a retired Marine and he likes to tell stories from his 20 years of service.
> 
> I think I'll write a few one-shots about how Tony and David get along during training with Michael, how Booth joins the team, and some more basic team building buddy stuffs before I write their first mission together. Thanks for reading and waiting for updates. Let me know if there's something you guys would like to see. :)


End file.
